


Adjusting

by twipen



Series: Of Noble Blood [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cole being human, Cole getting used to being human, Gen, Inquisitor Trevelyan being a bro, Kittens, Spoilers for Cole's Mission, and lots of kittens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 07:02:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2956772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twipen/pseuds/twipen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They needed him. He could hear their pain as clearly as any persons, but it was not so complex. They were hungry, a blossoming ache, rumbles, but there's not enough. He could help, and make sure they were fed, but being more human now made it so much more difficult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adjusting

It was easier before.

Before he could sneak past the kitchen staff, make sure they didn't notice him. But he was human now, and now he just got shooed out. Being human was hard, how would he be able to help if the cook kept tossing him out of the kitchen? It was distressing. Another thing—he had never been distressed before, and now he was feeling it. He felt so many different things now. Anger, fear, joy, comfort, and distress. Distress was not fun, and he knew if the cook would just let him _help_ it would go away. 

He heard the whisper that the Inquisitor was looking for him, but he ignored it. He was  _busy_ . 

Blackwall didn't mind him being in the stables anymore, not since he had learned what Cole was doing. Blackwall was nice sometimes. He shifted the straw and cloth around with his hands, sitting cross-legged on the dirt floor.

The whisper got closer, and closer, until finally he heard it from Blackwall, and then--

"Kittens, huh?"

Inquisitor Trevelyan was nice. Worried about people, worried about him.  _Cared_ . He was wondering where Cole had been these past days, maybe disappeared, maybe left.  Also wondering why the cook is complaining about him.

"I wouldn't leave," Cole said, only half realising it was not said out loud. "Not right now."

"Good to hear," the Inquisitor replied,  but still waiting for his answer. 

"The mother is too weak to feed all of them," he explained, a little flustered, "I can help them, keep them alive. The cook won't let me in the kitchen. He can  _see_ me.."

The Inquisitor understood. Cole could both see it and hear it as Inquisito r Trevelyan put the p i eces together in his head. But Cole was impatient. It was another thing he could feel now. He was about to continue his rant, but then the Inquisitor wanted to  _help_ .

"Really?" He said, in response to a statement not voiced yet.

"Yes, really." Inquisitor Trevelyan chuckled, "I have an idea."

 

* * *

 

The Inquisitor had Blackwall watch the kittens while he took Cole with him to the kitchens. Blackwall mumbled his affirmation but Cole could hear him--

" _confused, completely at a loss. What am I supposed to do with_ _**kittens** _ _?"_

The Inquisitor chuckled again and Cole knew it meant he was amused.

"He'll be fine. They'll be fine." He was trying to reassure Cole, but Cole already knew.

"Blackwall likes kittens." He said, “He doesn't know it yet.”

"I think everyone likes kittens."

 

* * *

 

The cook almost threw a fit when he saw Cole, but the Inquisitor at his side gave him pause. There was a silence—after the obligatory _Inquisitor_ from the kitchen staff—and it took Cole a moment to hear that the Inquisitor was expecting him to speak. Cole didn't know what to say though. A hand on his back pushed him a half-step forward, and a whisper ' _kittens_ ' and Cole understood. But it did not mean he knew what to say.

"They—They're _hungry_." He realised belatedly this was a poor start. "The mother can't feed all of them and they'll _die_ if I don't help them! But you keep throwing me out and I _can't_ \--"

"There is a litter of kittens in the stables," Inquisitor Trevelyan intervened, a hand on Cole's shoulder. "Surely we can spare a bit of food for them?"

The cook eyed Cole warily, but addressed the Inquisitor when he spoke.

"Of course, my lord," he replied, "I had no idea that was what he was in here for. Thought he was just stealing from the stores like that blasted elf--"

"Cole is in charge of their care," he said, the hand on his shoulder shifting to his back and pushing him forward again. The cook turned him attention to him, and Cole hid behind his hat. He wasn't used to people seeing him all the time. "Please see to it that he gets what he needs."

"Of course, my lord." The cook turned to Cole. He could see him, even if in his embarrassment—a new feeling he also did not like—he wished he could not. "Tell me what you need and I'll tell you want we can spare."

It was not what he had expected, but it was good enough.

 

* * *

 

Over the course of the next several days, word had spread first through the Inquisitor's companions, then the chargers, then the forward scouts, and eventually all of the Inquisition that Cole had kittens in the stables. Blackwall was not pleased with so many people moving in and out of the stables to see the kittens. Josephine suggested they be moved somewhere warmer, ' _and cleaner_ '--a part she didn't add out loud—and offered to let Cole house them in her office, where he would of course be permitted to stay with them. Josephine was kind, and pragmatic, and in no time at all, had a warm bed made for 'Cole's kittens'. It was warm in her offices, and it was safe, and the kittens were happy.

And Cole was happy.

 


End file.
